


Crooked lines

by crispicheva



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, fanmail prompt, married victuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 10:52:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12130875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crispicheva/pseuds/crispicheva
Summary: “What’s the difference? Between the love of your life, and your soulmate?”“One is a choice, and one is not.”And Victor Nikiforov had chosen none.All it took was a letter.





	Crooked lines

**Author's Note:**

> This actually started out as a prompt in which Yuuri did everything in his power to prevent Victor from finding out he'd written him fanmail, but the story almost wrote itself, and before I knew it, I'd gone in a completely different direction!
> 
> I hope you like it though!

If you had asked 23-year-old Yuuri Katsuki, self-proclaimed “dime-a-dozen figure skater”, anxious mess, stress eater, how his life would be in 5 years’ time, he would’ve given you a short, simple answer. Probably something about being retired and running Yu-topia Katsuki with his family. 

Now, 5 years and 2 gold World Championship medals later, Yuuri realizes, as he looks at his stunning husband-slash-coach, that he never dared dream this high. 

It’s been almost 4 years since Yuuri decided to move to Russia to train with Victor and Yuri Plisetsky, having moved in with Victor shortly after arriving (he’d lived in a hotel for about 2 days, so as not to impose on his fiancée, but Victor hadn’t allowed such nonsense – “We’ve been living together for almost a year already, my Yuuri belongs with me!”). It hadn’t been easy on the older Russian skater, keeping his own career afloat while also coaching Yuuri, but Yakov had been a great help and for that Yuuri would forever be grateful. 

However, Victor had suffered a significant injury last year, not enough to keep him from skating altogether, but still it meant that he could never skate competitively again. Therefore, at almost 32 years of age, the great Victor Nikiforov announced his retirement from the ice. 

He seemed to smile more often nowadays. 

So Yuuri found himself in _their_ apartment in St. Petersburg, cuddling with his husband on their couch as the man he had idolized since he was a child slept soundly in his arms. The Japanese man smiled to himself as a sudden rush of love and affection overcame him, and he found himself pressing Victor tightly against his chest as he smelled his unique scent on his hair. Practice that morning had been the first of a very demanding season, with the Olympic Games coming up, and Victor had stayed up late the night before to organize their training schedule for the week. 

Yuuri Katsuki really couldn’t believe how lucky he was. 

Tired legs intertwined with strong, longer ones, and Yuuri fell into a light sleep with the feeling of the love of his life breathing softly against his neck. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Victor awoke to the comfortable sound of a heartbeat, the scent of his husband filling his senses. As he lazily opened his aqua eyes, he yawned and felt the man beneath him start to wake. 

Yuuri stretched unceremoniously, almost pushing Victor off the couch, but as he opened his eyes and looked at Victor, the Russian man couldn’t have cared less. 

Because home wasn’t four walls anymore. No, home was a pair of blue glasses, home was a poodle phone case, home was looking into the most beautiful brown eyes and wondering how he could ever have called «home» to anything but Yuuri Katsuki. 

So Victor smiled peacefully before he kissed his husband, breathing in as their lips touched, letting his hand come up to Yuuri’s jaw and rubbing his thumb against the soft skin. He knew Yuuri was very self-conscious about not being able to grow a beard (his Asian background and his father’s genes left him with a sorry excuse for a stubble), but Victor loved how the bare skin felt against his fingertips. 

“You fell asleep”, he heard Yuuri say. 

Victor chuckled. “So did you, _dorogoy_ ”. He sat up and teasingly slid his index finger over Yuuri’s nose, faint freckles decorating his beautiful husband’s face, before reaching for the glasses on the coffee table and handing them to Yuuri. 

“Thanks” Yuuri said as he put them on. “I guess we were both really tired.” He kissed Victor’s cheek as he got up. 

“How about we go out for dinner tonight?” Victor suggested. “Makka is at my parents'...You probably don’t feel like cooking…” Yuuri agreed with a huff. “… and I also think the stove still hasn’t recovered from the last accident.” 

“Neither the stove nor I” Yuuri replied with a worried smile. “How anyone could have set fire to the stove while trying to melt butter is beyond me, Victor. A hot day has better cooking skills than you.” 

“Yuuri! You’re so mean to me!” the Russian man indignantly whined, but the corners of his mouth were soon pulled up into an easy smile. Victor loved his husband more than anything, and he knew Yuuri felt the exact same way, so these jabs were nothing more than routine teasing in their household. 

He was the happiest he’d ever been, with Yuuri. 

“Should we go take a shower, my love?” Yuuri turned at the seductive tone of Victor’s voice, and laughed out loud. 

“We should, _my love_ , but you can go in first” Victor’s pout was the most adorable thing Yuuri had ever seen, but he would not cave. “It’s already kind of late, so if we don’t hurry it’ll be hard to find an open restaurant!” he said quickly. 

Yuuri’s reasoning was solid: whenever they showered together, their level of intimacy seemed to escalate rather uncontrollably. That didn’t mean, however, that Victor wouldn’t miss his husband in the shower. 

“Alright, _solnyshko_ , I’m going. I’ll be out in a while, so could you please pick something out for me to wear?” 

Yuuri nodded, as he was already making his way to the bedroom as Victor spoke, knowing full well how his husband loved being pampered like that. Also, Victor seemed to trust Yuuri’s choices unconditionally, so Yuuri felt at ease going through the Russian man’s closet in search of an outfit. 

As he heard the water being turned on, Yuuri started rummaging through his own clothes and quickly selected what he would wear: since it was getting colder outside, Yuuri chose a plain white shirt that he’d wear underneath a comfortable deep-blue cardigan. A pair of grey trousers and his winter boots and he was done. 

Yuuri then made his way to Victor’s closet (which was separated from his own because, even though they exchanged clothes more often than not, Yuuri couldn’t imagine Victor’s chaotic system clashing with his very organized one). He smiled giddily as he heard Victor singing in the bathroom, and wondered once more how his life had turned out this amazing. 

He picked Victor’s dark-green turtleneck and his favorite beige blazer, and quickly found the brown trousers he was looking for. He couldn’t, however, find Victor’s Brogue boots. Yuuri got on his hands and knees, searching under the bed, behind the bedroom door, in the living room... 

They were nowhere to be found. And they were the only boots Victor had for such cold weather (Victor still insisted he didn’t need such warm footwear, but Yuuri wouldn’t hear it. They were in Russia, after all, and sleeping in the same bed as Victor’s freezing feet after going outside was something Yuuri would happily do without). 

The Japanese man made his way to the bedroom once more, determined to find the boots before Victor stepped out of the shower, and he had a feeling they’d be somewhere in there. 

He wondered if Victor had hidden them to keep Yuuri from making him wear them, but if that was the case then Victor had grossly underestimated his husband’s persistence. 

As he started searching in the upper shelves of Victor’s closet, Yuuri came across something heavy, presumably a box. He tried to move it to the side to continue his search, but apparently miscalculated the length of the shelf, promptly knocking the box to the floor. 

It fell with a hard thud, and suddenly there were notes everywhere. 

Yuuri’s first reaction was to panic: he might’ve broken something of Victor’s, and even though he’d never seen that box before, Yuuri could tell that it was something his husband treasured. The black wooden box shone with golden details, and its chest-like appearance made it seem like it belonged in a royalty chamber rather than in a city apartment. 

The brown-haired man, however, quickly turned his attention to the numerous papers that decorated his bedroom floor. One after the other, he tried to pick them up to neatly put them back in the box, but as he did so, Yuuri realized what those notes were. 

He had stumbled upon all of Victor’s fanmail. 

At first, he was too stunned to move, sitting on his heels on the floor with about 15 letters in his hands. But Yuuri could feel his heart swelling with affection for Victor. The man who had been his inspiration for more than half of his life, and who he now had the privilege of calling his husband. The man who had every reason to be an arrogant bastard, but would humbly keep every letter his fans sent him, and treasure it deeply. 

Before he knew what had come over him, Yuuri found himself crying. 

Of course Victor would choose such a time to walk in with a towel around his waist. 

“I’m all done, Yuuri, you can g- _dorogoy_ , what happened?” Victor’s soft voice turned worried as he dropped to his knees next to Yuuri. “Why are you crying?" 

“… what are you doing with these?” Yuuri couldn’t decipher Victor’s tone, so his mind decided to supply that Victor was probably angry at him. 

“I…” Yuuri's chest suddenly felt very tight. "… I knocked it over by accident, I was looking for your boots and I couldn’t find them anywhere so I tried looking for them in your closet but that box was kind of in the way so I moved it a little and then it _fell_ -“ 

“Yuuri, breathe.” Victor told him, assertive but still sweet. 

“ _Gomenasai, Victor_ ” 

“It’s okay, _moye lyubov_ , these things happen! You can’t even begin to imagine the amount of times I dropped that box myself.” Victor smiled at Yuuri, then took off his husband’s glasses and tenderly kissed his tear-streaked cheek. Yuuri's skin was warm under his palm, and he rubbed it soothingly with his thumb, each caress conveying his love for his beautiful, kind husband. 

"… you kept all your fan letters?" 

"Every single one of them", Victor laughed sheepishly. Then his expression fell into one of tenderness. "When I was younger, I used to take some out and read them to myself. There were times when I felt that I was dedicating my life to something that would only be the end of me. I suffered through injuries, ridiculous nutritional plans, inhumane training schedules..." Victor paused and took a deep breath before turning to Yuuri with a grimace. "… I often wondered why I was doing it at all." 

Yuuri stared at his husband, dumbstruck. The amount of pressure Victor had been under from a young age was unimaginable to Yuuri. To think of what Victor had already given up for skating at the age of sixteen... Yuuri's heart ached for this amazing man. 

Victor exhaled softly as he turned to the letters on the floor once more, picking one up and smiling fondly. "The first time I got a fan letter, I was 13. I'd just placed first at the Junior National Championship, and a girl about my age was standing by the sidelines. She had something in her hand and she waved it at me, and I was curious, so I walked over to her and she handed me the letter." Victor held it out to Yuuri, who took it and carefully studied it. The handwriting seemed meticulous, but Yuuri still couldn't read cursive Russian. 

"I was so excited that I hugged her, and she started crying" Victor said with an amused snort, the fondness of that memory shining in his eyes. Yuuri fell in love with him all over again. 

"I never got tired of getting them" Victor continued. "At some point I had to get a box for them myself, but this chest was given to me by Mama." the silver-haired man said gently, as he started getting up. 

"They kept you going." Yuuri finally said. 

Victor looked at his husband, still sitting on the floor, a loving look on his face, and smiled once more. 

"They really did." 

He dipped down to kiss his husband, then started to get dressed. 

Yuuri watched as Victor towel-dried his hair in a very naked state, and decided to place the letters back into the chest before he did something that would make both of them late. 

However, as he picked up the chest, Yuuri's breathing utterly stopped. 

There was a letter taped to the inside of the lid. 

Victor felt the room becoming eerily quiet, and turned to see Yuuri clutching the chest tightly as he stared at its interior. 

“Oh, you found my favorite.” 

Yuuri’s head snapped upwards so fast he almost felt his neck crack. 

“… your… favorite?” 

“I know, it’s unfair to have a favorite fan letter..." Victor finished putting on his trousers. "… but whoever wrote this…” he gently took the chest from Yuuri’s hands and carefully untaped the letter. “… they seemed to know exactly what I needed to hear.” 

"Victor, I wrote this." 

Victor froze, his belt still unbuckled. 

"… what?" 

Yuuri shifted nervously. "… I sent you this letter, when I was 12... see the little poodles on the edges?" Yuuri pointed at the ink splotches on the paper. "I drew them." 

"… I thought they were supposed to be flowers." Victor sounded stunned into a stupor. 

"Haha nope, you're looking at the sad attempts of a 12-year-old at drawing poodles." 

"… I thought a girl had sent me this." 

"Well now I'm getting offended", Yuuri joked, but Victor still looked frozen where he stood. 

The Japanese man was starting to get anxious again. 

" _Anata_ , are you alright?" 

"Yuuri, I love you." 

Yuuri stared at Victor before he chuckled. "I know, Victor, I love you t-" 

" _No_ ", Victor's voice was firm as he took Yuuri's hand in his, his aqua eyes glistening with unshed tears "I have loved you for _so many years_ , Yuuri Katsuki." 

The sincerity and raw emotion in Victor's voice caused Yuuri's heart to skip a beat. Or two. Or maybe it had stopped altogether. 

"Victor..." 

"You are my soulmate, Yuuri." He kissed the inside of Yuuri's wrist. "The love of my life, and if I hadn't been certain before, I'm surer now, more than ever, that you're the person I belong with. The person I belong to." 

Yuuri felt his chest growing tighter with affection for this man. "Vict-" 

" _Please_ , Yuuri, let me finish." Victor's tears fell freely as he smiled. "I wouldn't be here, I wouldn't have become who I am today, without you, _dorogoy_. You are my path and my finish line. You saved me from quitting, from giving it all up...", Victor released Yuuri's hand and clutched his left wrist, looking ashamed, "… from myself..." 

"If you'd never written those words, I wouldn't have grown up trying to be a man who deserved them. I would've thrown everything away, because _I wanted to_... but I wanted to be the man you would be proud of even more." He looked into Yuuri's deep brown eyes and his expression melted into one of pure devotion. 

"I'm so happy I found you, _moye serdtse_. I love you more than life." 

Yuuri broke down sobbing. 

Victor sniffled as he embraced his husband, Yuuri's arms automatically wrapping themselves around Victor's bare torso. Yuuri cried for Victor's childhood, for his loneliness. He cried for the strong man Victor had become, and who Yuuri would do anything for. He cried for knowing this love, and for how the universe had managed to put them both in each other's way. 

As their eyes met, they knew. 

They would follow each other to the end of the world, in this universe and in any other. 

" _Kokoro no sokokara aishiteru, Victor_ " 

Victor kissed his husband deeply, large hands pulling Yuuri's lips flush against his. 

_From the bottom of my heart._

_Me too._

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

"Okay I'm ready to leave. Victor, go get your boots." 

"But Yuuuuri~..." 

Yuuri laughed despite himself. "Don't even start, we're already late!" 

"Maybe we should stay in toni-" 

"Nikiforov, I am dehydrated because of you, you owe me dinner." 

Strong arms wrapped around Yuuri's waist as Victor nestled his face in the crook of Yuuri's neck, chest pressed against Yuuri's back. 

"It's _Nikiforov-Katsuki_ , if you don't mind." 

The words brought a smile to Yuuri's lips and he pecked Victor's cheek. "I don't mind at all", he said, unwrapping Victor's arms from himself. "Boots." 

" _Da_ , _da_ , I'm going" Victor complied, walking over to the bedroom fully dressed, and barefoot. He pretended not to notice Yuuri's mocking snort. 

Victor picked up some socks and his boots, but before he put them on, he glanced at Yuuri’s letter, now proudly sitting on his bedside table. 

He picked it up.

>   
>  _Hello, Victor-san!_
> 
> _I saw you win Worlds on TV and I wanted to tell you that you did great!_
> 
> _You already know this but you are loved by everyone! You have many many fans all around the world who see you skate and support you! So keep doing your best and I hope you’ll always love what you do!_
> 
> _It must be very hard to be the best when you’re still so young, so please take care of yourself! I want to become great like you someday, and I know it’s going to take a lot of effort, but I will always see Victor-san and be inspired!_
> 
> _Because you are an amazing role model, and you deserve to be the happiest person in the world!_

The Russian man smiled to himself.

Tying up his boots, he decided he’d frame it. 

He truly was the luckiest man alive.

**Author's Note:**

> I may have rewritten the ending about three times...? I wasn't too happy with how I'd first written it so...
> 
> Let me know what you think! :)
> 
> Also, find me on [ tumblr ](%E2%80%9Dwww.crispicheva.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D) !


End file.
